The Untamable Shrew
by Achicagoil
Summary: Rather DARK!!!! fic. Draco reminisces over his past. Inspired by Nexis-Dea's "Means to an End", but not significant to it.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter characters. Those claims go above my head. This story was inspired by Nexis-Dea's "Means to an End", but if you haven't read it, don't worry. I only got the idea from the ending. I highly suggest you read it, though. It truly is a most amazing story. This is a one-shot, by the way... ^^v  
~Achicagoil  
  
Dedications: To Jess. I had nothing to do with giving you a bad name on ASMR. To PJ. Thanks for letting me help you give Jess a bad name on ASMR. To Phil. Just because I know he'll never read this to scream "WOMAN" at me. To any ASMRians who read this and review. YOU ROCK. And to all the fellow S.S. Leather and Libraries shippers. Sorry for making this such a sad story.  
  
AND A NOTE: Yes, I am aware that Draco is a wizard. HOWEVER, he shall know the names for muggle objects. So HA!  
  
The Untamable Shrew  
rated: PG-13  
one-shot  
  
Snape stood guard on the outside of the room, near the doorway, while Draco felt his way through the darkened area. On the far side of the room, he felt up to a small switch lamp and turned on the light, having to shield his eyes until they became accustomed to the eerie glow.

  
The room clearly belonged to a girl. His first view of the lamp could easily tell him that. It was in the shape of a small, blue, stuffed beagle, meant for a young child. Large, near anime-style eyes were drawn upon it, complete with long eyelashes, a giant nose, a dog-shaped mouth, and surprisingly enough, freckles. The dog was even wore a small, blue-striped necktie and a matching blue vest. 

  
'I've had it for as long as I could remember,' her voice echoed through his head. 'I never named him, but he was a source of comfort.'

  
It sat upon a grand stereo, surrounded by dirty tea cups, dusty compact dicks, nail varnish bottles, and a digital alarm clock. The green figuring of the clock read "six-forty-eight" but he knew it was well past midnight.   
Below the stereo sat her bedtable. It itself was a creamy-yellow color, with small pink flowers carved upon the drawers. There were two in total. He opened the top one. In it were old CD cases, collecting dust. Reading the titles of the music, he acknowledged her taste; it ranged from Bach, to show tunes, from pop, to punk. He grinned at her lack of certainty.

  
'Ignore the pop, please,' the echo grinned. 'I used to be the biggest teenybopper for boy bands. I grew out of it by the time I hit Hogwarts and met the true teenyboppers. Lavender and Parvati... I swear...'

  
The bottom drawer reeked of chaos and havoc. Half-used spools of white thread, dress-up jewelry, abandoned child figurines, and near 40 bottles of nail polish gleamed through the light. He picked up one of the figurines and inspected it. A round, green figure with a giant white "M" on its stomach grinned at him through sultry, feminine lips, quite like Pansy. He placed it back into the drawer gently and inspected a bottle of dried-up pink polish.  


'When I was ten,' the echo informed him, 'My mum would always paint her nails a different pink on the weekends. She finally gave me my first bottle and it started a trend. The next four years, I would get a bottle of a different color for birthdays and weekends.' He snorted an indignant laugh.

  
On one side of the bedtable, placed in the far corner, was a midnight-blue beanbag, adorned with six-tipped stars and smiling suns in gold. Two matching pillows were carelessly thrown on top of it, the suns upon them grinning menacingly. On the other side of the bedtable was a cream, four-poster bed. The sheets were white, with grinning suns that matched the beanbag. Drops of ink was scattered over the sheets carelessly, as if its occupant had been elsewhere when handling the quill. The cover and bed skirt were deep blue, adorned with silver, seven-tipped stars and moons. They seemed to be mocking him with their grins. Two pillows sat at the end of the bed, near the headboard. One matched the bed's cover, in deep dark blue with suns and moons and stars in silver. The second, however, was adorned in a random pillowcase.

  
'I broke the canopy off the top when I was five because I wouldn't stop jumping on the mattress,' the echo giggled. 'As for the pillowcase. I was on my way to a slumber party when my dad pulled it out and covered the case that was already over it. Said it was dirty. I never did get around to cleaning it.' He looked under the mismatching cover, and well enough, a pillowcase that matched the sheets greeted his eyes.

  
On the far side of the room was a dresser, kiddy-cornered into the corner opposite of the beanbag. On top of the six drawers it held (that matched the drawers from the bedtable), a small cubbyhole was placed, as if a shelf, in the woodwork. In it was a television and a VCR. Draco walked over to the muggle objects, and took notice of the dolls on either side of the telly. On the left was a fair-haired, white-skinned doll with a white wedding dress that had been hand-knit from fine yarn. Her blue eyes stared lifelessly at him. To the right, was a porcelain clown, in blue and red silks, holding a small, plastic drum that was tied to its hand by string. 

  
'My Grandparents bought it for me when I was four. Didn't have the slightest clue I was terrified of clowns. It had to stay in the foyer until I was eight and knew better than to be afraid of them.' The echoing in his head was starting to get annoying.

  
Next to the dresser was a desk, full of as much chaos as the bedtable. It also had several drawers, all full of old pens, papers, other random office supplies, and (much to his amusement) a half eaten box of Girl Scout cookies. Two shelves were connected to the top of the desk, and the figurines set upon it caught his attention. On the lower shelf, glass art was scattered around. A small glass unicorn stood on it's haunches, rearing up to the wind. An even smaller glass elephant stared cutely into the distance, its trunk in the air. Glass roses, vases, and random glass art was scattered around the shelf, intermixed with clay knickknacks and two or three music boxes. On the second shelf were more dolls, all with hand-knitted dresses or outfits. He picked up a small music box of a cat wearing a dress and wound it up.

  
'She's been broken three times. I used to have her on my bedtable, where she would get knocked over with a pillow or something. But every time, my father was able to glue it back together. Not as useful as a reparo spell, but it worked well enough,' her voice called out, over the tinkling of music. He gently placed the music box back down where he had found it, and turned to the last piece of furniture.

  
It was only given that it would have been a bookcase. Without it, it wouldn't have been her room. It was the same, royal blue as the rest of her room, with a silvery sheen sponged on top of it, with five shelves, all of a different size. He slowly cruised through the titles of the books, smiling softly. They were all classified in the same genre, fantasy, and crammed next to each other, as if she had run out of room. Stacks of extra books that she HAD run out of room for sat where ever they could sit without falling off the shelves. All were of the muggle variety. 'Don't you start ridiculing my choice in books,' the echo warned. 'Merlin only knows you teased me about everything else, but if you start on the books, I'll jinx you to Mongolia.'

  
He grinned, taking a moment to look about the walls of her room. They were a deep, royal blue, and on the side of her bed were numerous glow-in-the-dark stars, random posters, and artwork she had drawn and inked. The color of the drawings obviously did not matter on the color of the thumbtacks, for green, blue, red, yellow, and clear pinned up the various posters.

  
Draco sighed, closing his eyes, and muttered choice words under his breath. Instantly, poppies covered the room randomly, scattered as if somebody had thrown them. Poppies. The flower of the dead. They seemed appropriate for the room and its occupant.

  
Snape poked his head into the room. "Hurry up, Draco," he warned. "You have a meeting in fifteen minutes."  
Draco nodded back at the older man. 

"Just a minute," he replied, walking over to the bed. Muttering some more under his breath, he turned around, leaving a single, red rose on the mismatched pillow.

He sauntered over to the door, and just as he was passing beneath the door frame, he turned back once more to look over the room of a girl. "Good bye, Hermione Granger," he whispered, closing the door gently behind him.  


Sometimes, a voice flew through his head (whether it was his, or her own, he did not know), power just wasn't enough. 


End file.
